


Look who failed Flirting 101

by Kacka



Series: Kacka Does a Thing [16]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 20:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10839291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: In Bellamy's defense, he and Clarke only know each other through their YouTube videos and emails. That's probably why he didn't realize she was flirting with him.





	Look who failed Flirting 101

**Author's Note:**

> @reignfier asked for "outgoing Clarke tries to hint her interest at Bellamy but he's such a nerd he totally doesn't get that she likes him." which turned into this. I hope you like it! Thanks for the prompt <3

Bellamy didn't mean to become a professional YouTuber.

He was convinced, as a preteen who watched tons of daytime court TV shows that aired on public access channels when he and O got home from school, that he wanted to be a lawyer. Making decent money, arguing with people professionally… it seemed like a sweet deal to Bellamy.

And out of-- probably stubbornness, honestly-- that remained the plan for years. 

But then halfway through law school, a professor he TA'd for started assigning videos for her first years to watch outside of class. Between the narrator's long-windedness and lofty vocabulary, and the dryness and complexity of the topics, Bellamy's office hours had been flooded with students asking him to explain the very same concepts in ways they would understand.

"I don't have time for this," he'd complained to Miller, who just reached over to pat his shoulder patronizingly, not even looking up from the textbook in his lap.

"Kids these days, am I right?"

"The videos are a good idea," Bellamy continued, knowing Miller was hardly listening. "They would work great if they didn't always lead to students tracking me down while I'm trying to study so they can ask me all the same shit."

"So make a better video."

Bellamy blinked at him. “Is that an actual suggestion, or are you just bored with my ranting?”  
  
“It can be both,” Miller shrugged. “If you can’t join them, beat them.”

"Huh," he said. "Maybe I will."

So he did. He expected to be emailing students the links, maybe sharing them on the class Facebook page. He never expected them to start getting hits from law students across the country.

He posted another video, and then another, each time the views and likes climbing little by little. YouTube ads started making him a little bit of money on the side, not enough to support himself (not at first), but enough it kept him going. Kept him filming and uploading.

That's when Monty came in.

"I'm going to help you out."

Bellamy frowned at him, shrugging his backpack off. It wasn't unusual for him to come home to find Monty there, laptop balanced precariously on top of Miller's legs thrown across his lap, the two of them studying together. In his opinion, it was only a matter of time before they hooked up on that couch, and Miller was going to owe him twenty bucks.

(“If we don’t hook up, then I’ll have twenty bucks. If we do hook up, it’s not that hard to just move it somewhere else. You’re making this too easy for me.” “It’s a gesture, asshole. I’m rooting for you guys.” “You’re welcome to root for me with your wallet anytime, dude. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”)

"What are you helping me with?"

"Your video thing." He turned his laptop to show that he had Bellamy's page pulled up, icon and banner blank. "More specifically, production quality. If you're willing to shell out a little bit of your internet money on some better equipment, I can help you film and edit your stuff so that it looks a little more legit."

"Less like you're in some basement somewhere making instructional videos on how to make suits out of skin," Miller added. Bellamy gave him the finger.

"Professional," Monty said. "That's the vibe you want. I promise your subscriptions are going to skyrocket if you do."

And he was right. Bringing Monty on board made an exponential difference.

They set up a tiny studio in the dining room corner that he and Miller never used, Octavia's boyfriend staging the scene for them with his artist's eye. Bellamy didn't realize that musty old tomes he'd borrowed indefinitely from the campus library would appeal to anyone besides him, but Octavia assured him it was all part of his nerdy professor 'aesthetic,' as was the little ficus Monty borrowed from his mom and the glasses they made him wear instead of his contacts for every episode.

Even Bellamy had to admit, watching them back-- it was better quality. The image was sharper, the sound less echoing, the lighting bright and inviting. Views went through the roof and all Bellamy could do was watch, slightly dumbfounded.

"It helps that you're hot," Monty told him. Miller scowled. “One less piece of movie magic for me to do.”

Now, it's three years later and he's still making videos. They've got sponsors and patrons who pay him to do it, they've got an even more professional space set up, and while Bellamy is still on camera a good deal, he's expanded to overseeing all sorts of educational video topics.

Monty was the first, making videos to help teach HTML, CSS, and some Java Script. His friend Jasper wanted in on the internet fame, so after an audition period Bellamy started working with him on some Bill Nye-esque chemistry videos that ended up doing really well.

Once they had that going, a bunch of people started requesting physics help, so they brought Raven on board. Bellamy lets her (and, from time to time, her academic advisor Sinclair) do whatever the hell she wants, seeing as no one has ever successfully told Raven she can't do something. It comes across as a less dorky, significantly more snarky version of Mythbusters, and their viewers eat it up.

“Who doesn’t want to watch a hot girl blow shit up?” Raven had said smugly, after her fourth video went viral.

“Honestly, I have twice as much fun watching you take down the mansplainers in the comments,” Bellamy said. Raven smirked.

“I have many talents.”

Bellamy’s company (his _company_. He has a company. He still can't believe it sometimes.) also sponsors a separate side channel where Miller and O alternate giving self-defense lessons. She's moved across the country with Lincoln now, so the two of them will post their videos on the second Wednesday of the month, and Miller will recruit (Harper or Monroe or whoever he needs for demonstrations) to make his videos for the fourth Wednesday.

As for Bellamy, his role is a lot of script supervision (“say it in _English_ , Reyes.”) and a lot more babysitting, standing behind the scenes with a fire extinguisher and first-aid kit at the ready. It's not at all where he thought he'd be at this point in life, but he loves it.

As with the whole YouTube thing, he kind of stumbles into friendship with Clarke Griffin.

"Have you seen this?" Raven asks one day. She came over to set up some incredibly involved experiment for tomorrow's filming, but was taking a break to scroll through her phone. After seeing the-- in her words-- "shoddy operation" Bellamy was running as far as marketing their channel went, she'd taken social media promo and their official email account into her own hands.

Bellamy is glad to be rid of the responsibility, honestly.

"You're gonna have to be more specific," he says, eyeing her contraption skeptically. "What does it do?"

"Oh, that? That's going to be a wind tunnel. But that's not what I'm talking about." She passes him her phone, which is open to a video of a blonde girl Bellamy isn't familiar with. She's got paint all over her hands and arms, the biggest, bluest eyes he's ever seen, and a mole above her lip that's distracting even when the frame is paused.

"What is this?"

"It's a video, dumbass. Hit play."

He does, and the girl's voice-- lower than he would've expected, and easy to listen to-- floats out of the phone's speakers.

"--give a shout out to Delinquent University for their video this week on the social psychology of juries. It was really well-researched and pretty comprehensive for such a short video on such a big topic. If you like educational videos, or if it's cathartic for your inner middle-school-self to watch people set a can of Axe on fire, you should check out their videos here." She points to the side and Bellamy startles to see his own face smirking out at him from a little window in the upper corner of the screen, the thumbnail for Jasper's Axe experiment linked directly below.

"That's all from me for today," the girl on the screen is saying. "Make sure to like or subscribe if you enjoyed this video, and let me know in the comments below how your finger painting turned out. Photo submissions, questions, and requests can be sent to mentalpicture@gmail.com. Take care of yourselves and I'll see you next week."

She gives a lame little wave and then the screen goes black.

"Mental Picture?"

"She's an art psychologist," Raven says, taking her phone back. "Her channel is mostly that illustrate-as-you-narrate stuff."

"She teaches people how to draw?"

"Sometimes." Raven shrugs. "She also talks about dealing with mental health stuff. You should check her videos out, it's kind of hard to explain."

"Maybe I will,” he says, trying not to sound too interested. Raven looks a little bit like the cat who caught the canary, like she knows something he doesn't know. Which she absolutely does. That's not a secret. "What else do you need to get this wind tunnel up and running?” He asks, effectively changing the subject. “I've got work in an hour."

After his shift at the bar, falling into bed around two in the morning, he knows he ought to go to sleep. He's tired enough it wouldn't be hard. Instead, he opens his tablet and pulls up Mental Picture's channel.   
  
She’s got three different playlists: one that seems to be fan service, where she shows photos and videos her fans have sent her and gives critique and commentary; one titled, ‘Happy Little Trees,’ which does indeed have a sort of Bob Ross feel to it, walking her viewers through different techniques; and one titled, ‘This is your brain on art,’ which appears to be topical videos detailing how art can be therapeutic for anything ranging from addiction to depression to autism.  
  
He clicks on one of those first, keeping the sound low.  
  
“Hey art fans.” Her voice fills the room and he likes it just as much as he did before. “I want to talk about ADHD today, which I’m sure plenty of you out there are familiar with. Don’t worry though, I’ll try to keep it short and interesting so I don’t lose you along the way.”  
  
Bellamy smiles in the dark as she launches into her script. She somehow makes neuroscience and psychology easy to comprehend, keeps the discussion on an academic level so that it doesn't get too heavy, and by the four-minute mark, she's wrapping up and Bellamy feels like he's learned something he can maybe retain.

He watches another video, and then another after that before he goes for his email. Sending her something from their official account might make his email more noticeable, but then he knows Raven would see it, and any response Mental Picture might send, and she'd be insufferable about it. So he pulls up his personal account, typing out a quick message.  
  
 _Hey, it’s Bellamy from Delinquent U. I wanted to say thanks for the mention, it’s always nice to hear from other YouTube people that we’re doing something right.  
  
I've watched some of your videos and I think they're great. If you ever wanted to collaborate on something, let me know. We’d definitely be interested._  
  
He pauses, trying to figure out how to end it. Sincerely seems too formal, but just his name seems too curt. Finally, he settles on a variant of her own sign-off.  
  
 _Take care,  
  
Bellamy_  
  
After he hits send, he pulls up one of her Bob Ross-style videos, autoplay carrying him from one to the next, and eventually lulling him to sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: mentalpicture@gmail.com  
To: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com, griffinc@gmail.com  
Subject: Re:DU Shoutout]  
  
Wow this is like having a celebrity tweet you back. I’d love to collaborate sometime!  
  
I’ve actually been wishing there was a channel that covered more recent history. 80s, 90s, early thousands, stuff that would give people more context for current events. It sounds right up your alley but it also sounds like a lot of work, so if you’re looking for something that’s less of a commitment I’m sure we can come up with something else.  
  
Let me know what you think!  
  
-Clarke  
  
P.s. I CC’ed my personal email address just to make sure this doesn’t get buried.   
  
* * *  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com  
To: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
I wouldn’t know, Twitter isn’t exactly my forte.  
  
That is a really good idea, actually. I think we can make it work as long as we limit each “season,” so to speak, to a certain number of episodes. Did you have anything specifically in mind you wanted to cover?  
  
-Bellamy  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
Oh, trust me. I’ve noticed ;)  
  
I can come up with a list of topics I think would be interesting and send them your way. You guys are based in DC, right? I’m in Ohio for school but I’ll be in the Virginia area over the summer.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com]  
  
What’s that supposed to mean?  
  
Yeah, summer’s probably good for us. That’ll give us time to get good research for the first few episodes under way. I’ll start brainstorming too. Also, didn’t you already finish school? You have your master’s, right?  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
It means you’re like an elderly man in a hot guy’s body. You wear tweed jackets. With _elbow patches.  
_  
Cool, I should be able to send you a list by the end of the week. And I’m working on my doctorate now. How far back in my videos did you go?? I mentioned the master’s like a really long time ago.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com]  
  
I didn’t realize I was so obvious. My sister tells me I’m secretly an old man all the time, but usually just because I won’t Skype her after 9:00.  
  
Sounds good. And… no comment.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
Don’t worry, I think more people have noticed the hot part than the old man part. Do you tell her to get off your lawn when she says that?  
  
And leave it at that if you want, but now I’m just assuming you’re my number one fan who has been obsessively watching from the beginning and commenting from a secret account. omfg wAIT a second deancasxstucky6969 is that YOU?  
  
* * *  
  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com]  
  
I usually tell her I missed what she said cause I took my hearing aids out. And then she tells me I’m lame. Sibling relationships sure are beautiful.  
  
Shit, you caught me! And here I thought that handle would really make me blend in.  
  
I looked you up on Wikipedia, okay? I’m not a stalker or anything. I wanted to know who I’d be dealing with.  
  
* * *  
  
[From griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
Sounds like something a stalker would say, but okay.  
  
* * *  
  
“Okay, what’s going on with you?”  
  
Bellamy blinks at Miller and frowns. “Nothing? What?”  
  
He gives him an unimpressed look, which, granted, is his normal face when he looks at Bellamy, but this is _extra_.   
  
“You always bury yourself in your projects,” he says when Bellamy doesn’t offer up any information on his own. “I’m used to that by now. But whatever this is has you superglued to your phone when normally you’re the one lecturing us about the evils of technology. What gives?”  
  
Bellamy winces. It’s true that he’s been on his phone more than normal; this current events series he’s setting up with Clarke is a pretty big undertaking and he wants to make sure they do it as well and as thoughtfully as they can. He didn’t even realize until this moment that he’s probably talked to her more in the past week than he has his roommate, and _definitely_ more than he’s talked with O.  
  
“Sorry. I didn’t notice how wrapped up I’m getting on this project. I should probably take a break or something.”  
“What even is it?”  
  
For some reason, he hesitates. It’s not that he thinks he has any reason to hide his plans with Clarke. It’s more that he’s protective of this project, now that he’s so invested in it.   
  
“I got in touch with this other YouTuber about collaborating on a project about recent history.” He runs a hand through his hair, still weirdly nervous. “It’s going to be cool, I think. A lot of stuff that isn’t in textbooks yet, a lot of stuff that teenagers and people our age lived through but weren’t culturally aware enough to fully understand.”   
  
“Sounds cool. You need help with any of the research?”  
  
“Yeah, probably,” Bellamy says, surprised. “You’d want to help out?”  
  
Miller smirks. “I’m more than just a pretty face, you know. I can't contribute that much to any of the other topics, but I think I could get a handle on this one.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Bellamy laughs. “I’ll let you know when we have our plan nailed down a little more. We keep getting sidetracked.”  
  
“Really.” His voice is unreadable. “Like arguing over fonts and whose name gets to come first sidetracked?”  
  
“Something like that.”  
  
In reality, he and Clarke keep getting diverted into topics like whether frozen yogurt counts as ice cream, Marvel versus DC, and people’s grossness toward bisexuality. But all that _really_ feels like something he wants to protect; something that’s just his and Clarke’s.   
  
“Uh-huh,” says Miller, unconvinced. “Who’s the YouTuber again?”  
  
“Clarke Griffin? Her channel is called Mental Picture.”  
  
“The art channel?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Huh.” He chews on this for a moment, then grins. “She single?”  
  
Bellamy knows for a fact that she is, because she mentioned it in their conversation about sexuality, but he knows that’s not really what Miller is asking so he shrugs one shoulder.   
  
“Does it matter?”  
  
Miller smirks, noticing his avoidance. “She seems cool. I’ve seen some of her stuff before.”  
  
“Yeah, I think she’ll fit in with us pretty well.”  
  
“With _us_?”  
  
As casually as he can (which is impressive in itself, given how increasingly excited he is about it), he says, “She’s coming to town for a couple of weeks in June to film the first few installments.”  
  
Miller snorts. “Well if this is what you’re like when she’s not around,” he says, gesturing to Bellamy’s hand which is still poised over his phone to email her back, “I can only imagine what you’ll be like when she’s actually here.”  
  
A sigh is as much as he can manage, because at that moment, his phone buzzes with a notification of another email from Clarke, this one a link to a listicle of cats doing weird things.   
  
_Cats_ , she’s written. _Nature’s perfect killing machine?_  
  
He can’t help but smile before he’s even clicked on the link. Miller might have a point.  
  
It might not be the project that’s got him in over his head.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
I know you probably experience this differently since you’re a guy, but do you ever find it weird when people proposition you over the internet? Like, you live in New Zealand. I’m not trying to pay thousands of dollars for a painfully long flight just for one hookup?? It’s absurd.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com]  
  
You know, I’m glad you brought this up because I feel like we as humans get so caught up in the offensiveness of unsolicited dick pics and demeaning comments that no one ever mentions the impracticality of sexually-themed trolling.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
That’s me, always starting the conversations that matter. It really doesn’t get to you? You love ripping trolls apart.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com]  
  
I do love ripping trolls apart. Raven’s pretty good at filtering stuff on group accounts and I don’t do a lot of social media of my own. That’s probably why I’ve missed out on this whole subset of troll-bashing.   
  
Plus, I’m notoriously bad at noticing when people are trying to flirt with me outside of bars or parties and stuff, so on some level I think I can distantly appreciate their straightforwardness. It makes blocking them so much easier.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
You know what, that actually explains a lot.  
  
* * *  
  
Bellamy thinks he knows what to expect by the time summer rolls around and it's suddenly time for Clarke to visit. He's watched enough of her videos to pick her out of any crowd, has talked to her enough he has an idea of what she’ll be like.   
Part of him wants to lower his expectations. Just because she's beautiful and fun to talk to and seems cool doesn't mean they’ll get along the same way in person.  
  
She’s driving down from DC pretty early in the day, so he’d given her the address of the cafe he goes to when he’s trying to write his scripts. Of course, he gets there way too early, gets way too many refills of his coffee, and is basically a jittery, nervous mess who can’t get any actual work done as he waits for her to arrive.  
  
And then suddenly she’s there, sliding into the seat across from him looking tired and real and perfect, and it turns out he was right: having her there is nothing like he expected. It’s _so_ _much better_.  
  
“Hey,” he says, sure he’s got a goofy grin on his face.  
  
“Hey,” she says back, biting her lip on her own giant smile. They sit there for a moment that way, neither of them quite sure what to say, and then she bursts out laughing, knocking his ankle with hers under the table. “For two people who talk for a living, we’re not really good at this, are we?”  
  
“There’s a reason I write scripts,” he laughs. “I’m not going to lie, I thought about trying to plan what I was going to say to you.”  
  
“Yeah?” She seems pleased.  
  
“And then I told myself I wasn’t that socially awkward. Turns out I was wrong.”  
  
“I don’t know,” she says cheerfully. “You’re doing pretty well.”  
  
“Good to know. You hungry?”  
  
“Starving. All my mom has in the house for breakfast is grapefruits and bran cereal. I’m seriously craving bacon.”  
  
“Oh, sorry, didn’t I tell you? This is a grapefruit and bran cereal restaurant. Is that not what you’re into?”  
  
“Shut up and tell me what’s good,” she says, knocking his ankle again and letting her foot rest there this time.  
  
Bellamy clears his throat. “So wait, do you want me to talk or not? I’m getting mixed signals.”  
  
“I’m regretting this trip already. Why do I even like you?”  
  
He ducks his head on a smile. “I’m pretty sure you knew what you were getting into.”

“That’s true,” she hums, and meeting her gaze is kind of A Lot. “I definitely did.”  
  
* * *  
  
Once they finish breakfast, Bellamy is at a bit of a loss.  
  
“So what first?”  
  
She hums, stretching, and he makes a concerted effort not to check her out. “You film in your apartment, right?”  
  
“Yeah, we picked the bedroom with the most natural light for it. Miller is still so bitter.”  
  
“I would be too,” she says, smiling, and Bellamy wonders how he can be this fond of someone he’s only just technically met. “So I can get the apartment tour and the studio tour all in one?”  
  
“Special behind-the-scenes access,” he agrees. “You don’t want to drop your stuff off somewhere first?”  
  
“Oh.” Her cheeks color. “I assumed I’d be-- I figured you wouldn’t mind if I crashed on your couch. But I can--”  
  
“No, that works,” Bellamy says, trying to seem casual and not like he already changed the sheets on his bed for her. She’s in town for a _week_. There’s no way he’s letting her sleep on the couch. He and Miller can share, or Miller can stay over at Monty’s. It’ll be fine. “You good to follow me? It’s not far.”  
  
“Lead the way.”  
  
Clarke takes in everything in his apartment with sharp eyes, interested and teasing as she runs her fingers over the books on his shelf and the photos stuck to his fridge with the solar system magnets one of their fans made and mailed to them.   
  
“What’s this?”  
  
“Oh.” Bellamy feels heat rush to his cheeks. “That’s my recipe box.”  
  
Clarke’s face transforms with her delight; it’s kind of hard to look away. “You have a recipe box?”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So how did you ever get into YouTube when you do everything else in analog?” She teases, undoing the latch and flipping through the cards.  
  
“A lot of those are from my grandmother,” he says defensively. “I’m a little bit busy to go through that whole box and transfer them to the computer. Do you know how long that would take?”

She just shakes her head and smiles. “You could copy them as you go. Do you really make all of these?”  
  
“I like to bake,” he shrugs, uncomfortable. He’s so used to having the distance of a camera and a screen between him and his audience, that having just hers, so intent and so curious and so _personal_ , is a little overwhelming.  
  
“That should be our next series,” she teases, swaying towards him as if to reassure. “I can’t bake at all, so I’ll come over and we’ll get out your box and you can teach me and the internet all your secrets.”  
  
“Our next series?”  
  
“What, you thought we’d just stop being friends after this?”   
  
Bellamy is taken aback. He’d been too focused on getting through this series to even think about the next. “You really think the internet wants to watch me bake?”  
  
“You’re smart, you’re good-looking, and you know how to captivate an audience when you talk through things you’re genuinely passionate about,” she says, easy as anything. “I think the internet would watch you do your taxes.”  
  
“That’d just be six hours of swearing,” he says lightly, reminding himself that she wouldn’t be partnering with him on this project if she didn’t think he was good at YouTube. That they’re professionals, and she’s just giving him professional feedback.  
But he’s still self-conscious about it, so he clears his throat and says, “Ready to get to work?”  
  
She gives him an amused look he can’t quite read. “Sure. Just-- one quick thing first.”  
  
“What--”  
  
The rest of his question is cut off when she twists her fingers in the front of his shirt and pulls him toward her, leaning up at just the right moment to catch his lips with hers. Bellamy is caught so off guard he forgets to breathe for a moment, and when she lets him go, rocks back on her heels to smile up at him, he feels a little lightheaded.  
  
He wets his lips and tries again. “What, uh--”  
  
“You said you’re bad at recognizing when people are flirting with you,” she says, biting her lip again. “I thought I’d make it really clear, since it didn’t seem like you were picking up on my signals.”  
  
The corner of his mouth ticks up. “You were sending me signals?”  
  
“Ever since my first email.” She gives him a wry smile. “I don’t know how I could’ve been more obvious, really. I told you I thought you were cute, I used more winky faces than I have in my entire life, I established that I’m single and into guys…”  
  
“Oh.” Bellamy blinks, thinking back through basically every conversation they’ve ever had. “I didn’t pick up on any of that.”  
  
“I thought not. That’s why-- But if you’re not interested, that’s fine, we can--”  
  
Bellamy laughs and reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear, cupping the back of her neck so he can pull her back to him. She comes easily, smiling into the kiss this time.   
  
“I like you,” she tells him, nudging his nose with hers. “In case you need me to spell it out any further.”  
  
He smirks, letting his hands settle on her hips when she presses closer. “The kissing sort of tipped me off.”  
  
“Well then we better make sure you really got the message.”  
  
He laughs and she bites his lip reproachfully. “Yeah. I think it could sink in a bit more.”  
  
* * *  
  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com]  
  
Monty gave his seal of approval so the video should go up Thursday. Raven said I should give you a heads-up because (and I quote) “ _some people_ know how to promote their content online.”  
  
You’ve been gone like three days and it already sucks. This was so much easier when I didn’t know you were into me.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
Don’t worry, I’ll tag you. All you have to do is retweet from me.  
  
And yeah I miss you too. But I graduate in December and then I’m moving back if I can get a job in the area.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: bellamy.blake@delinquentu.com]  
  
I know an educational video company that might be willing to throw some work your way.  
  
* * *  
  
[From: griffinc@gmail.com]  
  
I thought you might ;)  
  
* * *  
  
“Hello and welcome to The Blaking Channel.”  
  
“We’re not calling it that,” Bellamy says, rolling his eyes despite the huge smile on his face. “I’m vetoing anything that’s a pun with my name. Or cutesy rhymes.”  
  
“It’s like you don’t know anything about what the internet likes,” Clarke laments. “Which is probably true. He’s so bad at the internet, you guys.”  
  
“That can be our next special series. You teach me how to internet.”  
  
“Deal.” She grins. “But first, he’s teaching me how to bake. Fair warning, I’m going to be terrible at this.”  
  
“You have other talents.”  
  
They’d already attempted a few simple recipes, just so he could see what skill level he was working with. Suffice to say it hadn’t gone well.   
  
“Yeah, like picking up on social cues,” she teases. Behind the camera, Miller smirks. Most of their viewers probably don’t know that they’re dating, and none of their viewers know the full story of just how inept Bellamy was at being flirted with. It’s not memorialized on the internet forever, but his friends know, which means he’ll never hear the end of it anyways.  
  
“Just like that,” he agrees, because he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on. “Don’t worry, I’m here to walk you through it.”  
  
Clarke nods and pushes up her sleeves, like she does at the beginning of a lot of her videos.  
  
“Sounds good. Let’s get this show on the road.”  
  
* * *  
  
 **bananabel248** What can Bellamy *not* do? He’s the perfect man  
  
>> **mildlyupsetatthedisco** he can’t stfu  
  
>> **effyouverymuch** um? rude. nobody asked you.  
  


**TheBeatsieBoyz** I AM DECEASED he can bake??? this is the best series EVER XD  
  


**Alex Smith** oh my godddddd now im craving chocolate  
  


**lastofthe-timelord-s** SO. MUCH. FLIRTING.   
  
>> **giveitarestbecky** i thought i was the only one who noticed!!!  
  
>> **stopinthenameofLoki** i ship it  
  
>> **Clarke Griffin** me too :)


End file.
